


Force, Awake, Eternal

by yujacheong



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Side Rey, Gen, Rey Palpatine, Rey grew up with Palpatine, Sith Rituals, The Dark Side of the Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26141494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yujacheong/pseuds/yujacheong
Summary: Rey grows up on Exegol, groomed to succeed her grandfather both as Sith Master and as future Empress of the Galaxy.“Grandfather, you should rest.”Sheev Palpatine scoffs at Rey’s admonition, but the sound is less a snort and more a strangled wheeze.
Relationships: Sheev Palpatine & Rey
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31
Collections: Alternate Universe Exchange 2020





	Force, Awake, Eternal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inquisitor_tohru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/gifts).



“Grandfather, you should rest.”

Sheev Palpatine scoffs at Rey’s admonition, but the sound is less a snort and more a strangled wheeze. He knows she is right, but he is after all a Sith Lord. And once upon a time – before he was so unjustly deposed and forced into hiding, that is – he was absolute ruler of the Galactic Empire. He has his pride to consider.

And so does she.

Beyond the transparisteel panes of her grandfather’s luxuriously-appointed bedchamber, Exegol’s endless ion storms rage. Although the storm clouds function to permanently blot out the sun, blurring day and night into a monotonous gloom on the planetary surface, dazzling displays of lightning flashes tear their way across the sky. Thunder booms, a teeth-rattling cacophony; Rey draws the curtains. Their fabric is thick, the finest crimson-dyed velvet, and they are effective in muffling the sound and fury of the storms. “Grandfather,” she repeats emphatically. “You should rest. Please.”

“You know what would give me rest, and yet, you persist in denying me,” says her grandfather in reply. Though the criticism implied by those words may seem harsh, his tone of voice holds no sharpened barbs. Mostly, he just sounds tired and resigned, and in any case, he has already taken the initiative in easing himself into bed.

“Ah, let me help…” Rey hastens to assist her grandfather with one hand placed gently against his back. His body feels as light and as fragile as flimsi, like it might crumble at any moment.

And indeed it might. Her beloved grandfather’s life is precious – to her, to their people. She must remain vigilant.

Rey is making minor adjustments to her grandfather’s blankets and pillows when the call comes in. Yes. _Finally._ She’s been waiting for this comm. She’s about to give her grandfather her apology until she realizes that he is already asleep.

*

Sometimes Rey thinks she can remember living on a planet where the sun shone brightly in the sky during the daytime. It’s sort of like how sometimes she thinks she can remember her parents: She acknowledges the loss, but she does not rue it. The inheritance that her grandfather has bestowed upon her more than makes up for any half-remembered tragedy.

The ion storms which wrack Exegol’s skies do not trouble Rey. They are a manifestation of the planet’s primal power in the Force, and equally, they conceal her people’s activities from prying eyes in space – the two reasons why the ancient Sith chose it as a refuge.

“The fleet has begun the launch sequence, Your Highness,” says Grand Admiral Pryde over system comlink. He stands on the command bridge of his flagship hundreds of kilometers above Rey’s head.

“Understood,” she replies. Her voice does not shake with eagerness, but admittedly it’s a near thing.

Soon Exegol will be refuge no longer. Soon it will be a staging ground for _war_.

Rey has traded her grandfather’s sumptuous private apartment for the cold stone ruins of Exegol’s Sith temple. This hallowed ground is the sacred center of her people’s faith, and it will be the fleet’s command center when her people rise up to take back the galaxy for the Sith Eternal.

As Rey watches Star Destroyer after Star Destroyer after Star Destroyer – each and every one equipped with its own planet-killing laser – launch in formation through the ion storms and into the blackness of deep space, the dark heart of her soul rejoices. She feels ecstasy. Sheer, unadulterated joy. For many years they have toiled, and now, her people are coming into their own. Something within her seems to crack and break free. _Rey_ is coming into her own, and at last, at long, long last, Palpatine’s lineage will be able to take its revenge.

*

It’s only a test launch, yes, that is true, albeit one executed to perfection. Soon, though, Rey knows, the Sith Eternal Fleet will launch for real.

So elated is she, in fact, so consumed by newfound potency, that she almost fails to sense her grandfather’s body dying.

*

Rey closes her eyes and reaches into the Force. She can feel the threads of life and of death. She seizes them. “Commence the transfer,” she says.

“Yes, Your Highness,” says the biotechnician.

They have carried her grandfather’s withered body from his bed to the mind transference bier. The flesh of this clone is already beyond salvage – like so many before it – but her grandfather’s consciousness, the strength of his will, continues to persist intact within. They will transfer his mind to a new body, and then the rapid processes of decay will begin yet again. Her grandfather is too powerful for these frail shells, and he uses up these crudely made bodies practically as fast as they can be grown.

Rey is needed to facilitate the transference. She remembers when she first met her grandfather – he’d been trapped in a half-animated corpse. She’d been young and naïve and weak, and his mien had terrified her. She’d gotten over her fear, though, and worked hard to refine her talents. Now, she augments her grandfather’s life with her own and, in so doing, has greatly improved its quality.

This time, though, something is different. The threads of life and of death that she weaves and reweaves around her grandfather instead seem to extend _from_ her grandfather and _to_ her. Her power does not only flow into him; something of _him_ also flows into _her_.

All the Sith. All the _power_. Hers for the taking, and she is taking it. Like calls to like. She denies her grandfather his wish no longer.

The ecstasy is more intense than a thousand thousand planet-killing Star Destroyer fleet launches. Rey writhes with pleasure intense enough to be agonizingly painful.

Ah yes, she could take all of it. And a part of her wants to take all of it. Had she attempted this before today, she _would_ have lost control and taken all of it, which is why she has always refused even to try. But today is not yesterday; today is today; and at the last moment, the very lasts moment, she relents.

And when she emerges from her reverie, her grandfather is alive in his new body on the bier. His eyes open – they are the blue of the half-remembered sunlit sky of Rey’s lost childhood. When he sits up, he is hale, and Rey does not need to assist him. In the name of Lord Bane himself – her grandfather looks almost _young_ – !

He knows was has transpired even better than she does. “I am all the Sith no longer,” he says, and no one has ever sounded more pleased by a demotion. “The dark mantle is now yours. Granddaughter, the throne awaits.”

Rey has inherited her grandfather’s Sith Mastery, and now she leads the Sith Eternal. One day, she will be the Empress of the Galaxy. She has realized the ultimate power. Absolute victory is well within her grasp.


End file.
